


The Gift

by Cat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Some Swearing, male slash implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8933698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat/pseuds/Cat
Summary: Some gifts should never be opened in public.  Especially if that public is a group of superheroes.





	

“Okay everybody, time for presents!”

Phil took a small sip of the high-powered egg nog Stark had insisted on serving, more for appearances than anything else. He didn’t mind a good soiree now and then: maybe a charity ball at the White House or a fancy-dress dinner at one of the Embassies. But this...this was, as per Tony Stark, obnoxiously over the top.

He looked around what was supposed to be a living room and once more took in the dozens and dozens of decorations that turned the place into a strange combination of North Pole and classic Christmas kitsch and futuristic bordello. He chuckled to himself at that observation and tried to block out the images of candy cane dildos that suddenly danced in his head.

That was when he noticed that Stark stood near the modernistic fireplace wearing a Santa suit, complete with stuffing, beard, and floppy hat.

“He’s really going all out this year, isn’t he?”

Clint’s voice brought him out of his reverie and watched as the archer settled himself on the love seat beside him. “This is Stark we’re talking about,” Phil quipped and handed his glass to Clint. “Here. Merry Christmas.”

Clint raised an eyebrow and dubiously eyed the glass and its contents. “What’s this shit you’re trying to pass off on me? If it’s egg nog, you know I don’t drink egg nog.”

“It’s a...special...kind of egg nog. Different than what you’re used to. Take some and pass it on.”

“Uh huh.” Clint shook his head and set the glass down on a nearby endtable as Stark began to rummage around under the massive entity that vaguely resembled a Christmas tree beneath the voluminous amount of gold and red decorations seemed to make the tree’s branches wilt with a sort of resigned contentment. “Fuck that noise. Let some other schmuck try it.”

“Oh dear god what have you done to this drink, Stark?!”

Phil and Clint watched as Steve leapt to his feet and spat out his drink, letting the glass fall to the floor in the process.

“Looks like someone else already has,” Phil winked. 

“Oh for god’s sake, Rogers! You act like you’ve never had egg nog before. Just...whatever. Sit back down and let’s get the real party started. Okay, who wants to play Santa’s Helper? Hmmm, let’s see...Natasha?”

 

Seated near Rhodey and Steve on another sofa, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’m still smarting from the way Santa greeted me under the mistletoe he hung over EVERY doorway.”

“And other places too.” Maria Hill added as she entered the room and seated herself in a chair near the tree. 

“Okay, yeah...well okay, I take it that’s a ‘no’ from you too.” Tony looked around and glanced at Clint and Phil. “Gentlemen? Either one of you game for a little passing out the gift action?”

Phil shook his head. “Thanks, but...I’ll pass too. I see the size of some of those boxes and...well frankly I just filled up on those mushroom things and haven’t done my workout and...”

“I’ll do it.” 

Phil stared at Clint, who shrugged. “Why not? I’ve got the aim down.” The archer got to his knees and started to crawl toward Stark and the tree and Phil’s smile broadened. A rather lovely view of the ass of perfection greeted his gaze and he couldn’t wait to get home to give him that ‘special’ present that he’d picked up in the Wicked Game shop a few days prior.

This party couldn’t be over soon enough.

He cleared his throat and shifted slightly in place as Thor and Sam Wilson entered the room and joined in the festivities. Thor didn’t seem to mind the potent egg nog, as was evidenced by the enormous stein he held firmly in one hand as if it was Mjolinir itself.

“First up...well, look here. One for the guy who’s Christmas personified. Well, sort of.” Tony handed a wrapped green shoebox to Clint. “Mr. I Put The Green In Christmas himself.”

“One for the Big Guy.” Clint nodded and chuckled as he tossed the box over to where Bruce sat on the floor near Natasha. A perfect throw, but a nearly fumbled catch. “Nice save, Doc.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I don’t, uh...thanks.” Bruce smiled and waited, then noticed all eyes were upon him. “Oh. Open it now? I thought we’d open them all together...”

“Nope. Spotlight’s on you, Science Bro. Open up.” Tony was positively radiating childlike enthusiasm and, Phil had to admit, it was contagious. Everyone seemed to be more than a little invested in watching as Banner neatly but fairly quickly divested the package of its wrappings and revealed a Hulk bobblehead.

“That is freaking adorable!” Natasha laughed and playfully ruffled Bruce’s hair as he examined the figurine.

“Now you can play with yourself at the office.” Tony wisecracked and earned himself a glare from Banner for the effort.  
“Who’s it from?” Sam asked between sips of a bottled beer. Safe choice of beverage on Wilson’s part.

“Uh, lemme see...” Banner sifted through the wrappings and looked up at Stark. “Thanks, Santa. I knew it.”

“Yeah that does have Stark written all over it, doesn’t it?” Rhodey laughed and moved to swat Stark on the arm. “So help me if you even think of getting me something like that, you and I will have it out and I promise you, it will NOT be pretty.”

“C’mon, Rhode. What’ve you got against..never mind, I don’t wanna know. Okay, next is....ooo, this looks interesting. This one is for Barton.” Tony pulled another gift from beneath the tree - one of average size and dimension and wrapped in simple silver and gold. He handed it to Clint and smirked. “Someone doesn’t know your colors do they?”

Phil sat up and stared at the gift selection. Silver and gold...oh shit, that gift was the one from Wicked Game. How the hell did that end up here? He thought about when they were loading the car with gifts to bring tonight and told Clint to...

Oh shit. I left the damn thing near the tree! Of course he thought it went with the rest of them! This is not good! This is SO not good!

“Oh hey look it’s from Coulson.” Clint mused as Phil sat on the edge of the chair, his expression relatively calm and, he hoped, not betraying the inner panic he was suddenly feeling. Clint met his gaze a moment and the archer grinned. “I wonder if it’s a promotion.”

“Wait a minute, that was...that shouldn’t be in there. Don’t open that here. That’s for later.”

A round of catcalls went up through the crowd and Phil felt the back of his neck grow hot. Ugh. This was fast becoming a night he wanted to forget.

“Me thinks it’s something really special,” Maria chuckled.

“Too big for a ring.” Natasha nodded, looking equally amused by the situation. 

Steve, bless him, shook his head. “Come on, Clint. That was obviously brought here by mistake. Save Coulson from apoplexy and open it at home.”

“Oh no. Can’t do that.” Tony quipped as he held up a hand and shot Rogers a mischevious look.. “My house. My party. My rules. It was under my tree. And I want Clint to open it. Now.”

Clint hesitated a moment and studied Phil. He opened his mouth to say something, when Natasha beat him to the punch with an observation he couldn’t ignore.

“If you don’t do it Tony will, Clint.” 

Clint looked at Natasha, then back to Phil. “She’s right, man. You know, I’m pretty cool with just about anything people get me. Especially if it’s from you.” He paused and winked at Phil. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll love it.”

“That’s...that’s not what I’m worried about. Barton, I just...”

“ Oh lighten up, Agent Man. It’s Christmas. Go ahead, Barton. Tear that baby open.” Sam added.

Phil groaned and sat back. He watched as Clint slowly unwrapped the present until he reached the plain box nestled amidst a sea of silver and gold tissue paper. Phil wondered what the possibilities were that some sort of dimensional portal would open up beneath him at that very moment or whether or not he should come up with some excuse to leave the room (the bathroom was always a good one). He took a deep breath and decided to try to deal with the fallout where it came. After all, it wasn’t as if the others didn’t know he and Clint were together and were more than a little...intimate. It was old news, pretty much.

So why the hell am I ashamed of giving the person I love a gift that shows that intimacy? Because. Because the others will never EVER let you live it down. Especially Stark. That’s why.

He all but flinched as some moments later, howls of laughter erupted throughout the room. Phil pulled himself out of his reverie and discovered Clint was holding up the short and sexy French Maid uniform that Phil had been wanting to buy for him for so long. Ever since they’d admitted their attraction for one another, actually. A whole six months ago. And of course, now that he actually went out and bought the damn thing...

“That seems a rather impractical uniform, Son of Coul. Is that something the new agents will be wearing?” Thor questioned, eliciting another round of chuckles and wisecracks from most of the attendees.

“Good god I hope not,” Natasha lamented with a huge grin on her face. 

“Me either. I haven’t got the legs for it.”

Steve shot Stark a withering look. “Shut up, Tony.” 

“What? I was just...”

“Making an embarrassing situation even more embarrassing. Just cool it.” Steve shifted in place and looked at Phil and Clint sympathetically, although there was a strange flush to his face and he suddenly avoided glancing at Sam for some reason.

Hmm. Now that’s interesting. Great. Now I’m picturing Steve Rogers in that uniform. Shit.

 

“I need more egg nog.” Phil muttered and scrambled to his feet before he made a hasty retreat into the kitchen, determined to swallow a goodly amount of that nasty shit to hopefully numb any and all feelings, as soon as possible. Given the proof of alcohol in that stuff, it shouldn’t take too long. 

He was on his second glass and feeling a lot more pleasant when Clint entered the room a few minutes later and walked over toward the counter where Phil half-sat, half-leaned. “Hey,” Clint frowned. You okay?”

“Of course. I’m...I’m great. Just great. Want some egg nog?”

“Uh, thanks no. Again. Listen, Phil...”

Coulson held up a hand. “Don’t. I know what you’re gonna say. Just...don’t. I know. You think I’m strange, right? That I must have serious problems to fantasize about you in that kind of shit just about every day, sometimes more than once a day. Yeah well, you don’t even know the half of it, kid.” He started to take another draught of nog, when Clint’s hand stopped him and eased the glass from his grasp, set it aside on the counter. 

“I think you’d better ease up on that shit. Listen, I’m sorry the presents got fucked up when we were getting ready to come here. It’s my fault. I just assumed that since this was under the tree that...” He paused and a wicked grin slowly upturned his lips. “You should’ve warned me, man. I would’ve set that one aside where it belonged....near the bed.”

The way Clint said that as he slowly backed Phil into the counter made the older man shudder slightly. “You...you don’t...like...that present, do you?”

“Like it? Oh hell no...” Clint paused and let their eyes meet and hold for several moments. “I love it.”

 

–fin--


End file.
